


Promises To Keep

by Caldera



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, implied canon character death, summoning gerry again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-24 20:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caldera/pseuds/Caldera
Summary: The desire to talk to Gerry felt like a sharp pain in Jon's chest. But he would not. He would honour his promise.But then there was one last question to ask.
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 25
Kudos: 234





	Promises To Keep

Jon tried to fall asleep, but he couldn’t. The small shabby motel room where he had checked himself in for the night felt oppressively empty. Not that he wasn’t used to being alone, he had spent his fair share of sleepless nights either in his apartment or in the archives. Most of these nights, he was haunted by the unshakable feeling of being watched, or by the memories of some unspeakable terror.

What was haunting him now was Gerard Keay. Since he had dismissed him, it was the first time Jon was alone enough to really take in what had happened. He thought of all the statements he had read during his time as the Archivist, and of all the things that had suddenly fallen into place thanks to Gerard’s explanation. It was a lot to process, even though most of it didn’t come as a shock. He had spent enough time during the last years surrounded by supernatural terrors to not be surprised by the fact that the world was apparently haunted by eldritch fear beings. But still, seeing everything laid out in front of him made a huge difference.

But Jon also had to think about all the things that still didn’t make any sense, all the things that didn’t quite fit. He wanted to just take Gerry’s page, and ask him more questions, connect all the missing pieces with him, listen to all that he could say after a lifetime spent with the occult. The desire to talk to him felt like a sharp pain in his chest. But he would not. He would honor his promise.  
His promise. Another thought that kept him up. 

The page lay on his nightstand. Jon couldn’t really explain why he had placed it there. It just felt wrong to let whatever it was that was left of Gerry’s soul crumble in the pocket of his jacket. He turned his face to the wall in the hopes that not looking at it would stop the thoughts racing in his mind and grant him some sleep but he already knew that this was a hopeless endeavour.

He liked Gerry and, to be honest, he even admired him. He had for a long time. With every appearance in the statements, with every mention of an angry goth with poorly dyed hair, he couldn’t help but look up to him more and more. This Gerard Keay, for him, was someone who was forced into a life of fear and terror, but who had kept his humanity, who knew what was going on and who still helped even if it inconvenienced him. Burning Leitners and roughing up the old man himself surely also contributed to Jon’s growing admiration for him.

“That would be our Gerard,” that’s what he had said to Leitner. Back then, he didn’t even notice it. Way too many other pressing issues had occupied his mind in that moment and in the weeks that had followed. But as he started scrapping together information about Gerard Keay for his treasure hunt, he had thought back to this moment. 

_Our Gerard._ First, he had dismissed this comment as his first intuition of Gerry’s association to the Institute, but deep down he knew it was something else. 

_Our Gerard._ Like someone would talk about a team member, someone who was on the same side. And for Jon, that was the side of people who were confronted with the unspeakable but still remained human. He doubted that it was still his own side. That it ever had been. He felt like he didn’t have a lot of choices in the process and still he made all the wrong ones.

Choices. Maybe that was what pained him so much about Gerry’s fate. That no one that he trusted respected them. First Mary Keay, then Gertrude Robinson. Who knew what would have happened to his life if they had honoured his decisions? Jon suddenly had an idea. A rush of energy suddenly flowed through his restless body. 

He sat up in bed and switched the lights on but stopped himself reaching for Gerry’s page. Instead, he stood up and first searched for the tape recorder in his bag. It was turned off. 

“I…uh…I would very much appreciate it if you didn’t record what’s going to happen.” He felt awkward talking to the tape recorder and he didn’t know if it was of any use but he had to at least try. “This is not going to be the statement of some spook story.” He thought for a moment. “I’d be very grateful if you would respect our privacy. Even if it is opposed to your very nature.” The tape recorder was still turned off. He placed it back in the bag and sat down on his bed. 

Then he took Gerry’s page. Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure if he should really follow through with his idea. Gerry sure would not appreciate being summoned again. But he took a deep breath and started reading out the words in front of him.

A familiar electric buzzing filled the air, and as he spoke the last words, he already knew that it had worked.

“Oh, great.”, Gerry’s voice was full of cynicism. “Of course you didn’t. Of fucking course.”

“No. You don’t understand. I…uh…I wanted to ask you something,” as he said those words, Jon had already realized how stupid that had been.

“Of course you do!” Gerry had gone from cynicism to outright anger. He started walking back and forth in the small motel room. “Because that’s what you Archivists do, isn’t it? You ask questions. No matter how much you hurt the people you are talking to, you need to know!”

“Gerry, that’s not what I-“ but caught up in his tirade, Gerry didn’t even seem to listen to Jon.

“Always seeking out knowledge, great that you have me at hand, always ready to explain some spooky stuff to you, no matter how much I have to suffer. I should have known not to trust an Archivist. But I did it again. Well, that turned out great. But your treacherous ass will not get a single word out of me.” He stopped in front of Jon and crossed his arms, a look of angry defiance in his eyes.

Jon took a deep breath, carefully choosing his next words, “I summoned you because I wanted to ask you where you’d like me to burn your page. And what you wanted me to do with your ashes. After that, I will dismiss you immediately.” He tried to conceal the sting of pain Gerry’s words had caused him.

From one moment to the next, the anger seemed to deflate from Gerry’s body and he let his arms fall to his sides. “What? Why?”

“I was thinking about how from what I have heard, not a lot of people in your life seemed to have respected your choices. So maybe you would like to have a final say in what is happening to you.”

Gerry let himself fall on the bed next to Jon who felt a static crackle radiating from him. “I’ll have to think about that.” Gerry seemed to be genuinely stunned by this suggestion.

They sat in quiet for a few moments that stretched out for Jon like hours. His heart was racing, probably still from the force of the anger directed at him, and he did not dare to look at Gerry directly.

“Did you really mean it?”, Jon finally managed to ask. “About being the Archivist. That hurting people is in our nature. Did you really mean that?” He focused his gaze on his hand, fumbling with his fingers. 

“No,” Gerry said softly, “everyone who I met who hurt people did it because they decided to do that in one way or another. I don’t know you that well, Jon. But I don’t think you are the type of person for that.” Again, they sat in silence.

“Thank you,” Gerry said after a while, “you really are a good friend, Jon.” 

Finally, Jon had gathered the courage to look at Gerry directly. His expression was softer than before and all the anger had left his eyes.

Jon couldn’t help but let his gaze trail down from Gerry’s face to his muscular arms, tracing his tattoos. A few colourful figures that were partly covered by his shirt. Something that looked like a band logo. And on his elbow, the eye. “Is there a reason you have eyes everywhere? Is it…is it like a spell?”

“Yeah, Gertrude actually set me up as the next Archivist. You will need them too sooner or later.” He chuckled at what must have been an expression of pure shock on Jon’s face. “No, I just thought, if I join the Magnus Institute, I might just go full Beholding with the aesthetics.“ He rolled up the sleeve of his T-Shirt, revealing more of his biceps. For some reason, Jon felt his cheeks redden. “That’s my first one. Back then, I got it to annoy my mother. And because it looked cool, which annoyed her even more. Because I didn’t take all that spooky stuff serious enough apparently”. He pointed at a tattoo of three skeletons. They were dancing and wearing top hats. Jon chuckled.

“Thank God you were joking, I don’t think I could pull them off as well as you. Probably doesn’t fit my aesthetic.” 

“I don’t know, a black shirt and a leather jacket, maybe a piercing.” He leaned in closer towards Jon. The electric crackling in the air intensified but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. “You already have the hair for it.” Before both of them could realize what was happening, Gerry reached with one hand for Jon, brushing back a strand of his long, dark hair.

Both of them stopped immediately and looked at each other in surprise. Intuitively, Jon laid his hands on Gerry’s. It felt like a hand. A warm hand charged with electric currents that were sparkling against his skin, but a hand nonetheless. “I didn’t…I didn’t know you could touch things.”

“Neither did I.” They looked at each other, neither of them daring to move. Jon’s heart was beating so hard, he could feel it bumping in his throat. Without thinking, he closed the gap between them and pressed his lips against Gerry’s. 

And Gerry kissed him back. It felt like nothing he had ever felt before. Like a hundred tiny sparks tingling against his skin, sending electric currents through his body. It didn’t hurt, at least not unpleasantly so. It was vibrant. 

Gerry placed his other hand on Jon’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb and Jon’s mind shut down, filled completely by the energy running through his body as Gerry’s tongue brushed his lips. 

“You really are full of surprises, Archivist,” Gerry murmured in between breaths, his voice raspier and deeper than before. He pressed harder against Jon’s body, biting and sucking at Jon’s neck who couldn’t help but let out a moan. 

Their kisses became more and more demanding as they let themselves fall onto the bed. This undead body that did not breathe should feel weird to Jon, should feel unnatural with its skin that was slightly too warm for a human, too electric, tingling against him and filling his head with a buzzing that drowned out any other thought. But it felt good. It felt _right._

“What’s your plan now, Archivist?” Gerry asked after a while. His hands had been travelling further and further downward and were now resting on Jon’s hips, stroking him in circular motions. “I hope you did not forget that this body is dead.”

“Yeah…no…I…” it was hard to focus his thoughts with Gerry being so close to him, touching him, filling the air between them with this weird energy radiating from him.

“Buy you dinner first?” Gerry joked.

“No, that’s not…” Jon took Gerry’s hand and gently placed them up on his torso. “It’s just not… my thing.”

“No ghost sex for you? Ok then.”

“No, it’s not the ghost part…even though, maybe, I don’t know. My partners normally have been less…undead. I have to admit that. But that’s not the point. Sex is generally not really… my thing.”

“Oh, ok. I can live with that,” he said and pulled Jon into a tight embrace.

“Was that…?”

“…a pun? Maybe.” Gerry chuckled as Jon rolled his eyes at that.

And so they lay there, hands and mouths exploring each other. For how long, Jon couldn’t say. But after some time, the passion of the first moment was replaced by a calmer, gentler curiosity. Jon traced the lines of Gerry’s innumerable tattoos with his fingers trying to etch them into his memory as Gerry told him the story behind their meanings.

At some point, Jon started to experiment. Slowly getting closer to Gerard’s skin, he focused on the feeling in his fingertips, the electric buzzing getting more and more intense with every millimetre until he could feel his skin on his own, charged, vibrant, electric. “Gerry, why can I touch you? I thought the last time I summoned you, you were more…transparent. And also not really touching the ground.” 

“Yeah. I am pretty sure this is the first time this happened. I do have a theory, though. I am bound by the powers of the book. But I am also at mercy of whoever summons me,” he placed a hand on Jon’s face and steadied it to make sure Jon was looking into Gerry’s eyes, “I think that whoever summoned me just really wanted to be able to touch me.”

Jon felt his cheeks turning hot at that comment and he buried his face into Gerry’s chest. “You might not entirely be wrong,” he managed to mumble and Gerry laughed and placed a gentle kiss on top of his head. 

“Now it’s my turn”, he said while stroking Jon’s back, “how did you get your scars?”

“Which ones? It’s not like the entities are holding back when it comes to leaving marks on my body”

“I kind of get where they are coming from”, Gerry said and gently bit into Jon’s neck, “but let’s start with the holes.”

And so he told him about Jane Prentiss’ attack. And Gertrude Robinson’s body. The investigation. Jon’s paranoia and the tunnels under the Institute. Jurgen Leitner and his death. 

“He did mention getting beat up by an angry goth one night,” he added.

“So that pathetic old men…”

“Really was Jurgen Leitner himself. Yes.” 

They were silent after that. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. Surely, everything was a lot to process for Gerry. Meanwhile, Jon reflected on how good it had felt to finally open up to someone without the fear of either being called crazy or getting yelled at for some other reason. And there was another thing that had been bothering him in the back of his mind for some time now. Gerry was so much better adapted to dealing with the supernatural, so much more experienced. Together with his Archivist powers, there would be so many lines they could connect, so much Jon could learn to understand. If Gerry were still alive. If he were still truly alive, how many problems could they solve together? Jon’s chest hurt at that thought. 

“Gerry, what if…what if I find a way? A way to bring you back?”

Immediately, Gerry’s body tensed up. “I thought you knew better than this by now, Archivist.” He put a hand on Jon’s shoulder. “These powers, they don’t just come to you and do you a favour. There is always a price to pay and it’s always high. Even if there is a way to bring me back, and that’s a huge if, I don’t want anyone to pay the price for it.” He gripped Jon so tight that it almost hurt. “Hell, I most definitely don’t want to pay the price for it myself, either. Don’t make me pay the price for it.” He put so much emphasis on the last sentence that it felt not only like an order but also like a threat.

Jon instinctively flinched back. “I…you’re right. I just thought…” 

Gerry let go of Jon’s shoulder. “I know, what you have been thinking and I know that I am asking a lot of you,” His expression had softened again and he cupped Jon’s face with his hand, “but it’s the only way. These powers, they had so much of my life, let me have my death.” He gently placed a kiss on Jon’s forehead and then pulled him back into an embrace. 

“Promise me, Jon. Burn my page. And don’t bring me back. I trust you with it. Burn it whenever and wherever you choose to. But burn it.”

“So you don’t care-?”

“No, I don’t care where you’ll burn me, what you do to my ashes or whatever. Though I appreciate you asking. I really do. The choice that I make is that I want to die. Properly die. This here between us was more pleasant than anything I could have hoped for. Hell, it was better than most things that happened to me when I was still alive and I am grateful that I met you. But it can’t make up for the pain, oh no. And with every moment that I stay here, it gets worse. Don’t get me wrong. I made the choice to stay as long as I did to be with you. But it’s my time to go. And promise me it will stay this way.”

“I promise,” Jon said without a moment of hesitation but it still hurt to say it. Just like Gerry’s words had hurt him. It was unfair. So incredibly unfair. Unfair for Gerry. Unfair for him. But he also knew that Gerry was right. With all those weird, supernatural things that were happening around him, of course, the universe wouldn’t align just so he could use them to bring him back. Something bad would have to happen. Because the universe hated him. Just like the universe had hated him for the last few years of his life. And Gerry deserved better. He always had. 

“Dismiss me, Jon,” Gerry said softly, “I like you. I like being with you. But not more than I hate what this book has done to me. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“So, I guess this is goodbye, isn’t it?” Jon felt a lump tightening his throat.

“Don’t call me again, Jon. I am tired and I… I just want to end. Everything in me wants to go,” he gently placed a kiss on Jon’s lips. “This is goodbye, Archivist,” he whispered, softly pressing his forehead against Jon’s.

Jon took a deep breath. He tried to take in the moment as much as he could. Gerry’s electric skin against his, his dark brown eyes so close to him, the feeling of his strong body pressing against his own. 

“Ok,” he said as soon as he had gathered the strength to do so. “I will miss you. But I…I” He knew he had to say those words. He knew it. But still, it felt impossible. Gerry softly squeezed his hands. Jon swallowed. “Gerry, I dismiss you.”

It was just a matter of seconds but he felt Gerry’s body dissipating from solid matter to buzzing energy to nothing. Again, he was alone in his room. No Gerard, no electric humming, not even the feeling of relentless eyes watching him or the familiar whirring of the tape recorder. 

He was completely and utterly alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Big shout out to my lovely anonymous beta for dealing with my punctuation and to indefensibleselfindulgence for inspiration, go check out their fanfiction [rent plan ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15535125).
> 
> I am on Tumblr as @napping-in-the-buried


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